


Used to the Spin

by nlogax



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28246215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nlogax/pseuds/nlogax
Summary: In the front of the line, a couple pins numbers to each other’s backs, giggling and smiling at each other. In fact, it looks like mostly couples, and Ryan wonders if he’s the only one who’s not even getting laid for this.
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Used to the Spin

**Author's Note:**

> This was 100% inspired by Dark Blue - Jack's Mannequin

**\-- 0 days 0 hours 0 minutes --**

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“Oh stop pouting, it’s going to be fun!” Keltie chirps, squeezing Ryan’s hand in hers. 

They’re waiting in line at the check-in table. A floppy white banner above the tent reads:

ULTIMATE DANCE MARATHON  
PRESENTED BY UNLV  
BENEFITING THE AMERICAN CANCER SOCIETY  
GRAND PRIZE $1,000.00

To the right, Ryan surveys the setup of the event. There’s a large canopy enveloping a platform about the size of half a football field. The top of the canopy and the pillars holding it up are decorated with gold fairy lights, and it looks sort of like a wedding reception scene from a movie. There are so many people. Everyone’s chatting excitedly, and Ryan briefly wonders if he’s the only one in attendance who doesn’t really want to be. 

In the front of the line, a couple pins numbers to each other’s backs, giggling and smiling at each other. In fact, it looks like mostly couples, and Ryan wonders if he’s the only one who’s not even getting laid for this. Keltie is a dance major, that’s where she heard about this little affair, and everyone else she asked to be her partner was apparently a lot better than Ryan at saying no. Plus, he could really use five hundred bucks towards rent after his last tuition installment. 

“Names?” the organizer asks, not looking up from her notepad. Ryan hadn’t realized they were already at the front of the line. 

“Keltie Colleen, Ryan Ross,” Keltie says, pointing to each of them for emphasis. The woman makes a couple of marks on her notepad and reaches for the pile of numbers to her left. She hands them two 44s and four safety pins. Keltie takes them all.

“You can find yourself a spot on the dance floor and wait for instructions from the MC. Things should be kicking off in about fifteen minutes,” the organizer says. Keltie nods, thanks her, and grabs Ryan by the hand again to lead him to an open space on the platform. They end up somewhere in the middle and slightly to the left of the announcer’s podium. 

“I think we can totally win this,” Keltie says, pinning one of the numbers to the back of Ryan’s shirt for him. “I don’t see many of the other dance majors here, so I’ve definitely got an edge. And you never sleep anyway, so exhaustion shouldn’t be an issue either.”

“Exhaustion?” Ryan winces when Keltie accidentally sticks him with one of the bobby pins. ‘Sorry!’ she whispers. “Why would exhaustion be an issue? How long do these things usually last?”

“Oh, it depends,” she says absently, not looking him in the eye when she hands him her number and the other two pins, turns around and lifts her hair off of her neck. Ryan starts to pin the number to her back and she continues, “Usually less than twenty four hours…sometimes a few days—ouch!”

“Days?!” Ryan shrieks, his voice rising an embarrassing number of octaves. He doesn’t apologize for sticking Keltie with the pin. She’s still not looking at him. “What the fuck, Keltie. I’m not dancing for a couple of days.”

Keltie turns around and touches his shoulder, looks him dead in the eyes. “It’s for charity, Ryan. You got better things to do?” Ryan shrugs his shoulders and opens his mouth, but the question was apparently rhetorical. “Besides, they serve food and stuff. You get bathroom breaks. They’ll even let you change clothes if you have an accident. You just can’t stop dancing.”

“I don’t even want to start dancing,” Ryan mumbles, crossing his arms and pouting. 

“Haley!” Keltie shouts over his shoulder, ignoring that last comment. “Ryan, look, it's Haley and Spencer! Now you really can’t complain.”

Ryan turns around to see Spencer walking towards him with an amused look on his face, holding Haley’s hand. She and Keltie hug when they approach, and Ryan gives Spencer the onceover before chiding, “You didn’t say anything about a dance marathon.”

“Neither did you,” Spencer retorts, brushing his hair out of his face and smirking in that annoying, knowing way that he does. “A thousand dollars is a lot of money, dude.”

“Not that much,” Ryan rolls his eyes. Nobody seems to think this is as crazy as he does. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he mumbles to Keltie again. She doesn’t pay him any attention. 

“Attention dancers!” Ryan, Spencer, Haley and Keltie all turn to face the podium, where a short man with a trucker hat stands smiling. He holds up a sheet of paper and continues. “My name is Patrick, and before we get things started tonight, I’d like to thank you all for coming out and supporting such a great cause. Please know that your registration fees are working hard to fund studies that aim to one day make cancer a curable disease!” He pauses to let the audience applause die down. 

“I also want to make sure everyone knows the rules of this little shebang, so I have a handy cheat sheet here that I want to go over with all of you. As you know, the main objective of the contest is to remain dancing from the moment the competition starts until the last couple falls, figuratively or literally,” Ryan’s eyes go wide and he tries to give Keltie a look, but she ignores him, again. “Some of you may be worried about medical issues, but please be assured that we have doctors and other medical staff on standby should anyone faint or experience some other unfortunate condition as a result of this competition. You must remain with your assigned partner throughout the competition, unless some circumstance should arise in which two partners from opposing teams wish to continue dancing but they’re partners are incapacitated, and they join to form one team. In which case, the two incapacitated parties forfeit rights to the grand prize. Additionally, participants may fall asleep, so long as they’re partner is able to continue dancing for both teammates. Bathroom breaks will be permitted every few hours, and a staff member will approach you when your turn arrives. Food carts will make rounds periodically. You may not stop dancing during food breaks. And the number one rule, of course, is to have fun!”

Somehow, the crowd cheers. Except for Ryan, who eyes the medical staff wearily. 

“Without further ado,” the announcer flourishes, tucking the folded rule list into his shirt pocket and gripping the microphone with both hands. “Couples, grab your partners, rev your engines, because the Ultimate Dance Marathon will begin in 3…2…1!”

There’s a live band for the first couple of hours, and they break out into a rendition of an Elvis Presley song on the announcer’s count. Keltie grabs his arms and shimmies into place, and Ryan follows nervously. He’s being kind of stiff, he knows, and Keltie rolls her eyes at him. 

“You said you’d help me,” she says over the music, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. She shakes his arms a little and he rolls his eyes, takes a deep breath. 

Ryan grabs Keltie’s hand and spins her around playfully, laughing and allowing himself to loosen up a little. If he’s going to be dancing for hours and hours, he might as well try to enjoy at least the beginning. Keltie smiles at him when she returns to face him, wide and sweet, and they dance happily through the first couple songs. 

****

\-- 0 days 2 hours 24 minutes --

The band left half an hour ago, so now the music pours from speakers mounted in the corners and at the center of the canopy. Every hour, the announcer returns to the podium and announces the time. Ryan’s a little surprised that he isn’t tired yet, or worn out from dancing. He can tell that some contestants are starting to feel the heat, but only one couple has dropped out so far. 

The DJ is playing White Flag by Dido, giving the dancers a little break from faster-paced music. Keltie has her head leaned on Ryan’s shoulder as they sway. He takes advantage of the opportunity to look around and scout the competition. 

Spencer and Haley have their foreheads pressed together as they dance, with Spencer holding Haley’s hands in a way that reminds Ryan of ballroom dancing, but not exactly the same. They keep exchanging little kisses, and Ryan thinks they probably aren’t one of the more serious competitors. Like, if Haley falls asleep, Spencer isn’t likely to continue dancing just for a couple hundred dollars. He’ll probably just take her home and call it a night. 

In another corner of the canopy, Ryan notices a guy from his History of Composition class, a bearded guy named Jon, dancing with a small blonde woman in a pretty blue dress that makes her look kind of like a 1950s Cinderella. Beside them, a really tall Hispanic guy is dancing way too fast for such a slow, sad song, with a black haired girl who just laughs at him and tries to encourage him to take things seriously. 

“Vicky and Gabe,” Keltie says, noticing Ryan staring at the couple. “They’re hip hop dance majors. They’re the oddest couple I’ve ever met, but somehow they make it work. Are you still having fun?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan says. Keltie is biting her lip when he looks down at her, like she doesn’t believe him, so he smiles a little and reassures her. “I’m having a good time! The live band was nice.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you it could last for days,” Keltie says, smiling a little in response. “I don’t think it will though! These people are gonna drop like flies, you’ll see!”

“Your competitive side is showing,” Ryan replies, genuinely smiling now. “It’s a little scary.”

“Not as scary as yours,” she counters. Ryan doesn’t respond. One time, one time he threw a controller at the TV. He told Spencer he’d explode if he kept hitting Ryan’s guy with those goddamn koopa shells…

“Shit,” Ryan curses as he feels a foot crush beneath his own. He looks to Keltie to apologize, but then a voice calls from beside him. 

“Hey, watch it dude,” the voice warns. Ryan turns his head, increasing his dancing pace as the song changes from Dido to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The guy’s dark brown eyes are narrowed in his direction, and he’s not smiling—he looks serious. He has dark, dark brown hair, a little messy, and he’s dressed in a nice blue blazer with a lighter blue button-up underneath. He’s dancing faster than Ryan and Keltie are with a blue-eyed, black-haired girl who looks like she stepped straight out of an issue of Good Housekeeping. Ryan opens his mouth to apologize for stepping on the guy’s toes accidentally, when the guy’s face changes completely, and he smiles.

“Just kidding dude, we’re cool! It was likely my fault anyway.”

“It’s true,” the girl adds, looking at the guy fondly. “He’s kind of spastic. He has no control over his limbs and how much space he takes up.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, no problem,” Ryan says, not sure what the rules are on fraternizing with the enemy. Keltie pats his shoulder and smiles at the couple. 

“No problem at all! I’m Keltie, this is Ryan,” she says, pointing to him again like it’s possible she could be talking about anyone else. Ryan raises his hand to twirl her again. 

“I’m Sarah,” the girl says, smiling at Keltie. She looks at Ryan when she says, “this is Brendon. Do you go to UNLV?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says dryly. He watches Brendon lift Sarah slightly, do a little spin, plop her back down. He has so much energy. His blazer has already come unbuttoned. What?

“I’m a dance major, Ryan’s studying Journalism and Creative Writing,” Keltie supplies, swinging her hips in tune with Ryan’s and encouraging him to speed up. “What do you guys study?”

“Music composition,” Brendon says happily, spinning Sarah around and then bringing her in close. Sarah giggles. “Sarah’s Early Childhood Education.”

The song changes to something a little more Indie that Ryan doesn’t immediately recognize, so he just tries to stay on beat. He feels awkward carrying on this conversation, so he says “Well, good luck to you guys,” and swings Keltie so they aren’t facing their direction exactly anymore. Keltie gives him a disapproving look, but she doesn’t mention it.

“I wish they’d play some Britney,” she pouts, looking over to Haley for support. Haley blows her a kiss. Ryan laughs a little under his breath.

****

\-- 0 days 7 hours 56 minutes --

The food cart comes around eight hours in, and Ryan shakes his hips a little while he bites into a ham sandwich. Keltie sips from a water bottle and shimmies in his direction. Some of the other contestants huddle around the cart as well, everyone swaying and shimmying in some form to remain in the competition. Patrick approaches the podium and announces that the eight-hour mark is approaching. 

Several couples have dropped out of the running voluntarily. Most were either just having fun or not expecting so many people to be so dedicated. No one’s hurt themselves or passed out yet, but Ryan sees a couple of contestants falling asleep already. He glances toward Spencer and Haley, as the latter yawns into the former’s mouth for the seventh time in the past hour. Gabe and Vicky are still going strong, though. Jon and the blonde girl seem to be having fun still, and Brendon and Sarah have been having a full-on conversation since the competition began. Ryan doesn’t know how they haven’t run out of things to talk about, or energy to talk and dance at the same time. 

Ryan finds himself looking at them a lot, actually. 

“Alright, break’s over,” Keltie says, breaking him out of his own thoughts. She hands him the rest of the water bottle and grabs his other hand to lead him back to the middle of the floor. They get back into the groove to She Loves You by the Beatles. Ryan glances at Sarah and Brendon, right as Brendon shrugs off his blazer in one smooth move, still dancing, and flings it off the platform. He shakes out his arms and loosens the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the top two buttons near his throat. Sarah puts her hand on his chest and says something which makes him laugh, and Ryan finds himself watching his throat as he throws his head back. 

“Ryan?” Keltie says, poking him in the chest to bring him back to Earth. “I’m not losing you, am I?”

“What? No,” Ryan says. “I’m fine! I have all the energy in the world, or whatever.”

“Good,” Keltie says sternly. “I’m gonna be pretty miffed if you suddenly decide you don’t have insomnia anymore. It’s basically the reason I asked you to be my partner.”

“Hey! I thought you asked me because I’m your favorite person ever, and because I’m a really great dancer,” he argues, knitting his eyebrows together in faux concern. 

“Right, of course, that was it, not whatever I said,” she giggles. “Hey, maybe you should triple major. Vicky tells me hip hop dance is manageable.”

Ryan spins her around, a little too fast, and doesn’t respond—just rolls his eyes. He can’t remember what he was thinking about before, just focuses on the steps, the music. 

****

\-- 0 days 13 hours 7 minutes --

Haley falls asleep at thirteen hours, and Spencer almost loses his balance trying to maneuver her off the dance floor. Ryan’s first instinct is to go help him, but Keltie reminds him he can’t stop dancing or they’ll lose. Spencer gets assistance from some of the staff and gives a little wave in Ryan’s direction as they leave, and Ryan waves back sympathetically. He doesn’t think Spencer really did it for the money anyway…probably just because Haley wanted to. The way Ryan is doing for Keltie. 

“Poor Haley,” Keltie says. 

“Your friend okay?”

Ryan turns to find Brendon and Sarah. The DJ is playing something slow by Maroon 5, so neither couple is dancing too intensely not to chat. “Yeah, she’ll be fine. She’s just tired,” Ryan replies. Keltie wraps both arms around Ryan’s neck and leans some of her weight on him. He figures that’s fair, since she carries the team during the faster songs. He can do her this favor. 

“Good! I’m glad she didn’t pass out. I’m hoping I don’t pass out,” Sarah says, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. 

“You better not,” Brendon warns playfully. “I didn’t come here to lose.” 

He looks at Ryan when he says this, like…a challenge? He’s smiling a little, eyebrows raised. Does he think Ryan and Keltie are some sort of threat?

“What a coincidence,” Keltie butts in, narrowing her eyes for emphasis.

“Oh!” Brendon replies, smiling wickedly. “Now it’s a competition!” He winks at Ryan before spinning Sarah away. 

“They’re getting kind of annoying, right?” Keltie asks, muffling the question into Ryan’s sleeve. 

Ryan doesn’t hear her, “Did he just wink at me?”

****

\-- 0 days, 20 hours, 46 minutes --

When Ryan looks up at the scoreboard, it looks like at least half the couples in attendance have been eliminated for some reason or another. Most people have fallen asleep. Some left because they were sore or just generally over it. One guy started throwing a tantrum and crying and his girlfriend let them leave out of sheer embarrassment. Jon and his partner have already eliminated themselves, and they’re now sitting over on the bleachers observing with Spencer and Haley. Ryan notices them bonding over some conversation topic and smiles, making a mental note to have them all hang out later. Gabe and Vicky have lost a little steam at this point, but they’re still one of the most active teams on the dance floor. Sarah is resting her head on Brendon’s chest; eyes half-lidded and slow dancing even to the fast songs. 

Keltie is on her second wind after downing an espresso from the food cart when it came by the second time. She’s a really talented dancer; Ryan knew that coming into this. He just tries to complement her as best he can. “I think Brendon and Sarah are about to lose,” she says to him, crossing her feet over each other in a complicated movement that resembles an Irish step dance. Ryan struggles to keep up accordingly. “She’s practically asleep already.”

“Maybe,” Ryan says, sweating a little. 

“Brendon’s going to give up soon,” she says, breathing a little heavily. 

“Nice moves!” Vicky shouts from somewhere to their left. Keltie smiles politely but to Ryan she sneers, “Now we just have to beat them, and I know we can—agh!!!!”

Keltie starts to collapse, but Ryan reaches out to keep her from tumbling down onto herself. His eyes widen when he notices her breathing erratically, reaching down to hold her right ankle. “Ah, fuck!” she shouts. He sees a tear roll down her check and reaches down to wipe it away.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asks frantically. 

“Everything okay over here?” one of the staff asks, observing the scene from under his security cap. 

“No, fuck! Ah, I think I, uh, I hurt my ankle,” Keltie says, biting her lip to keep back her tears. She looks up at Ryan with a pained expression. “I think it's bad. I don’t think I can keep dancing.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan says softly, reaching down to put her hair behind her ears where it had fallen in her face. “We can try again next year?”

“No!” she whines, another tear slipping loose. She looks up at the staff member imploringly “There’s got to be some way we can continue.”

Ryan frowns, scratching the back of his head apologetically. He remembers how Keltie had been so determined to win. How she had convinced him to participate by explaining why she wanted the grand prize money so badly—so she could afford a plane ticket to go visit her dad in New York. Ironically, suffering from cancer with only a few weeks, maybe months left to live. The staff member lets out a breath. 

“Not unless someone else is willing to give up their partner to dance with yours,” the guy says, scoffing. “But that almost never happens. So it looks like you're disqualified.”

“Hey, wait!”

Ryan and Keltie look over to see Brendon, swaying Sarah’s sleeping body back and forth to the music. She’s loose in his arms, knocked out, and Ryan can see the strain in Brendon’s arms—he can see the muscles popping out from overuse, and—

“What if I switch Sarah out for Ryan?” Brendon asks, looking only at the staff guy. “She’s so asleep I can’t even wake her up anymore, and it’s getting kind of hard to hold her up. Aren’t we allowed to switch partners if it's mutual?”

“Sure, if you think your partner would be alright with forfeiting the prize money,” the guy responds with another shrug. 

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, she was kind of doing it for me anyway,” he replies, picking up Sarah’s left arm after it slips from around his neck.. 

Ryan’s just been standing there, forgetting to sway to the music, but he’s pretty sure that’s okay because it’s a medical time out. He’s got his mouth open like an idiot, he realizes, and uses it to start refusing. “I don’t think—”

“Do it.”

Ryan looks down at Keltie, still holding her ankle and wiping a few stray tears. “Keltie, what about—”

“Ryan,” she says. She looks at him with serious, pleading eyes. “The only way to get that money is if you keep dancing. If you and Brendon win, you can split the money halfway and I’ll have enough. If you’re willing to share, that is,” her smile is sad, but hopeful. 

“Not to rush you,” Brendon pipes up, hefting Sarah up again with his arms, clearly struggling. “But rush, please.”

“Ryan, please,” Keltie begs from the ground.

“Alright,” he says. “Okay, alright, let’s do it.”

****

\-- 0 days 21 hours 0 minutes --

It’s a little weird. They’re the only couple on the dance floor without at least one Vagina between them, and Ryan frequently wonders who’s leading whom. Brendon’s dancing style is a little more enthusiastic than his own, but he finds that their levels of wakefulness are similar, and Brendon talks enough so that Ryan really doesn’t have to, which is fine. 

Keltie got bandaged up by the medical staff, who determined that her injury was just a sprain. Luckily, that meant she wouldn’t be out of commission for too long. Haley took her home to change clothes and take a nap, but they’d promised to be back to cheer Ryan on from the sidelines. 

They’ve been playing mostly upbeat songs.

“I’m glad your girlfriend’s okay,” Brendon says suddenly. When Ryan looks up, he realizes Brendon has been watching his face. 

“Keltie isn’t my girlfriend,” Ryan says. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just go with it. Why he felt the need to clarify to this complete stranger he’ll probably never see again after this whole thing is over. “We’re just really good friends.”

“I don’t know if that’s how she feels,” Brendon replies, but he’s smiling in a kind of funny way. Ryan doesn’t know him that well, doesn’t know how to read his facial expressions and body language. It’s annoying. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks.

“I mean, I guess it’s not really my place to say,” Brendon says. He steps a little closer and lowers his voice. “Just, the way she was dancing with you and the way she looks at you, it doesn’t seem that way to an outside observer.”

“Well it is that way,” Ryan responds, backing up a little so he can no longer feel Brendon’s warm breath against his cheek. He frowns. “Wait, were you watching us?”

Brendon scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been watching everyone. For weaknesses. Yours is that you’re a bad dancer, by the way.”

Ryan’s frown deepens. “Am not,” he argues. 

“Dancing is more of a physical argument,” Brendon chuckles. “You could loosen up a little, get more into it, is all.”

“Maybe they just haven’t played a song I can really get into,” Ryan defends, looking at Brendon with a blank face and calculating eyes. 

“I swear they played Toxic by Britney Spears,” Brendon says, looking confused. “Are you telling me you’re the only person in the universe who can’t get down to Toxic, Ryan?”

“I’m more of a Christina Aguilera fan, actually.”

Brendon’s mouth actually drops open. “You are not. That’s like…is that blasphemy?’ he wonders aloud. He looks genuinely hurt. 

“Yeah,” Ryan elaborates, smiling slightly. “They put on some Genie in a Bottle, some Come on Over, that’s when I really bust out the moves.”

“Moves?” Brendon questions, raising an eyebrow at him. “You have moves?”

Ryan doesn’t know why, but he finds himself blushing a little. He shrugs his shoulders, looks away. “Maybe. You’ll never know, I guess.”

****

\-- 0 days 21 hours 14 minutes --

The first real slow song is Benjamin Leftwich’s cover of Rebellion (Lies) by Arcade Fire. 

“I’ll lead,” they both say, almost at the same time. 

They look at each other, confused. 

“No, I’ll lead. I’m taller,” Ryan says. 

“I’m a better dancer, I should lead,” Brendon counters.

“That’s not a fair argument, I’m not being the girl!” Ryan argues. 

Brendon rolls his eyes. “You’re smaller, more dainty, and you stepped on my toes earlier today. I’m going to lead, okay?” He reaches for Ryan’s arms, guiding them to his shoulders. He places his own hands high on Ryan’s hips, and Ryan forgets how to breathe for some reason. 

“See? Not so bad,” Brendon says softly. 

Ryan doesn’t really trust himself to respond; his voice feels caught in his throat. He just nods. A lot of other people look tired, but Ryan suddenly feels more awake than ever. His skin is hot where Brendon’s hands are resting. He involuntarily tightens his grip on Brendon’s shoulders, flexing his fingers. 

“Such a good song,” Brendon comments offhandedly. He starts to hum along, singing a few lines here and there. Ryan is a little surprised by how good he sounds. 

“You said you’re a music major, right?” Ryan asks, looking for something to distract himself from the way Brendon’s fingers are pressing into his skin, gentle, annoying. “You have a nice voice.”

Brendon smiles. “Yeah, thanks. I mostly compose, but I like singing on the side. I’m usually involved in A Capella, but I had to drop out last semester to take on more hours at my job. I had to move into an off-campus apartment and it started getting kind of difficult to keep up with rent.”

“Is that why you’re in this competition, for rent money?” Ryan asks. 

“How dare you!” Brendon says, feigning hurt. “I’m here for charity. But yeah, that would probably help a lot.”

“Why did you move out if you couldn’t afford to?” Ryan asks. 

“It wasn’t really by choice,” Brendon says, shrugging Ryan’s arms off his shoulders as the song changes back to something faster. His hands drop from Ryan’s sides, and the skin goes cold where they used to be. 

Ryan doesn’t pry any further. “Keltie needs money for a plane ticket to go visit her dad,” he supplies, unprovoked. “He’s sick, so. It’s important to her.”

“That’s why you’d dare to dance with a fella like me, right?” Brendon teases. Except, there’s a little of something else in there, too. 

“Not the only reason,” Ryan finds himself saying. Brendon grins, big and wide, and Ryan blushes for real this time. He doesn’t know what’s going on. Maybe it's exhaustion?

****

\-- 1 day 1 hour 32 minutes --

Keltie comes back for the second day of competition to cheer them on. She’s got her leg elevated on Jon’s shoulder, because he said it was okay, and Ryan is glad all his various friends are getting along. It will be much easier to coordinate all his social gatherings and ultimately spend less time and energy trying to keep up with all his relationships. 

Ryan’s starting to feel a little tired, even though the sun is bright and burning his eyes a little. The next slow song is I Will Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie. Some of the DJs choices are surprising, but Ryan’s really in no position to complain. His eyes are getting a little droopy, and he can’t really feel his legs anymore. 

“You can rest your head if you want,” Brendon says, soft, almost inaudible. He lifts his shoulder encouragingly. 

“Oh…Okay,” Ryan says. He steps closer to Brendon, holding his arms out awkwardly, swaying slightly to the music. “Where should I…”

“Here,” Brendon says. He guides Ryan’s arms to his sides and puts his hands on Ryan’s hips again. “Just lean your head down, if it's not too uncomfortable.”

Ryan tilts his head down, resting it against Brendon’s right shoulder. He’d taken off his blue button-down around seventeen hours, and his soft cotton undershirt feels like heaven against Ryan’s tired cheek. He nestles a little closer to Brendon’s neck and breathes out, and he notices Brendon stiffen just a bit before relaxing again. 

“Thanks for letting me rest,” he whispers. 

Brendon turns his head slightly, so that he’s speaking right into Ryan’s ear when he says, “Any time.” Ryan notices that his lips are soft against his skin. 

Ryan doesn’t remember much about what happens after that, except that he vaguely recalls glancing over at his friends and finding one dejected looking blonde girl staring back at him. When he tries to lift his tired eyes to meet hers, she looks away. 

****

\-- 1 day 3 hours 49 minutes --

****

**  
******  


********

Ryan opens his eyes and it takes him a moment to remember that he’s not at home, sleeping soundly in his bed. He feels a little motion sick when he realizes he’s swaying gently. There’s music playing and the brightness of the sun makes him think it's about midday. He’s also drooling a little. 

“Good morning princess,” Brendon whispers, really close to Ryan’s ear. Ryan pulls his head away before Brendon notices the goose bumps on the back of his neck. 

“I--I fell asleep?” Ryan stutters. “And we didn’t lose?”

“I held you up,” Brendon shrugs. “Dude, you weigh like ninety pounds. It was no big deal.”

Ryan looks around the dance platform, surveying the couples that are still left in the competition. Gabe and Vicky are slow dancing now, and they seem to have finally run out of steam. Ryan thinks they look kind of cute together now that they aren’t so in his face about it. 

“Thanks for letting me do that,” Ryan says, not meeting Brendon’s eyes. “I don’t know how you’re not dead. Aren’t you tired?”

“Hell yeah I am,” Brendon says, smiling brightly despite his admission. “But I’m also determined, competitive, and devastatingly handsome. And a great dancer, so.”

“I think only one or two of those actually has anything to do with my question,” Ryan smiles. 

“Hey guys, are you ready for a bathroom break?” It’s the new announcer, the one who replaced Patrick after the twenty-four hour mark. He’s short and excitable, and Ryan thinks he introduced himself as Pete, but he’s so tired at this point that he can’t really remember details that don’t directly affect him. 

“Yeah, actually, I’d kill for a bathroom break,” Brendon says. When he drops his hands from Ryan’s hips, Ryan stumbles a little. He hadn’t realized how much weight he was letting Brendon carry. He suddenly feels a little embarrassed and a little guilty. 

“I’ll go too,” he says. 

The announcer, Pete, points them to the public bathrooms attached to the recreation building and hands Ryan a key. “You have five minutes, if you aren’t back in time, you forfeit. Your time starts...now!”

“Come on, gotta hurry!” Brendon says, grabbing Ryan’s arm and jogging him towards the bathrooms. 

****

\-- 30 seconds --

Ryan splashes cold water over his face and it wakes him up a little. He checks himself out in the mirror, playing with his hair a little. He could really use a shower and a long, long, long nap. He might actually kill Keltie after this competition is over. 

Unless she still looks the way she did when he rested his head on Brendon’s shoulder. 

There’s a flush, and Ryan watches through the mirror as Brendon emerges from a stall and slides over to wash his hands. He splashes some water on his face and in his hair, running his fingers through it quickly to mess it up just right. He looks up and Ryan looks away, back at himself after realizing he’d been staring a little too long. 

“Your legs feel alright?” Brendon asks, still smiling. Ryan doesn’t know how he’s so awake. “Mine are like Jell-O, man. Can’t even feel my toes. I could go forever.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ryan agrees. He checks his watch, and they still have about three minutes before they have to be back. Brendon’s not rushing him out, so Ryan assumes they’re taking advantage of the time allotted to rest as much as possible. 

Ryan continues messing with his face and hair in the mirror, frowning. “I wish I could take a shower or something,” he says mournfully. “I look like hell.”

“Damn, really?” Brendon asks, coming up behind Ryan and moving a loose piece of hair back into its proper place. Ryan freezes. “Hell’s even hotter than I thought.”

“What?” Ryan puzzles. 

“Nothing, you look great. Who are you trying to impress, anyway? Thought you said you weren’t interested in that girl, Keltie,” Brendon says.

“I’m not,” Ryan shrugs. He grabs a paper towel and dries his hands, tossing the used cloth in the overflowing bin. “You don’t think there’s anyone else out there worth impressing?”

“We need to get back.” Brendon says it suddenly, with some coolness. Ryan follows him out and back onto the dance floor. 

****

\-- 1 day 7 hours 16 minutes --

Gabe drops to the ground seven hours into the second day. 

It’s a big scene. None of the other couples can stop dancing, of course, but the crowd goes absolutely nuts. Some of the other hip hop dance majors start yelling and cursing, and Ryan notices some of them begrudgingly handing over money to others. He guesses they must have placed bets on whether or not Gabe and Vicky would actually win it all. When he looks over at his own friends, they smile at him and wave. Jon and his girlfriend are asleep on each other, but Ryan appreciates their support still. Spencer even whoops a little, but stops abruptly when Haley smacks his arm and likely says something about how impolite it is to cheer when someone has fainted and requires immediate medical attention. 

“Only five couples left,” Brendon says quietly. 

Ryan looks around, surprised, but Brendon’s right. Ryan doesn’t recognize anyone from the couples who are left. He feels really heavy, like all his limbs have been tethered to the ground or something. They haven’t been playing many fast songs, and Ryan thinks that’s a way to make people fall asleep and end the competition before the remaining contestants become too much of a liability. 

Ryan can’t even feel his arms anymore, tired from holding them up so much. He tries to link his hands around Brendon’s neck, to keep himself up without putting too much of his weight on his partner, but his muscles fail him and he starts to slide away. Brendon notices his struggle and reaches up to hold him steady. 

“Sorry,” Ryan mumbles, trying desperately to keep from slipping again. 

“It’s okay, you’ve been dancing a long time,” Brendon says, unperturbed. 

“So have you, you shouldn’t have to carry me too,” he replies, feeling kind of useless and a little embarrassed. 

“I can handle it,” Brendon says, smiling that smile that makes Ryan’s stomach bunch up in a knot. Or, actually, maybe he’s just hungry.

Yeah, that’s it. 

****

\-- 1 day 9 hours 48 minutes --

“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” Pete says into the microphone, impossibly alert and excited. “If you’re still with us, congratulations. We’re now down to our final two competitors! The end is nigh, but who will fall first?” 

Pete has a flair for the dramatic, Ryan has learned. 

“C’mon, Ryan,” Brendon whispers, hoisting Ryan up from underneath his armpits, helping him sway back and forth. 

“Sorry,” Ryan says. 

“We’re almost at the finish line, okay? Think of all the work you’ve put in. You can push through, I believe in you.”

“Sorry,” Ryan repeats. 

Ryan watches Brendon look over at the other couple. The girl is completely asleep. The guy looks like he could pass out at any second. His shoe is untied, and Ryan’s would be really worried about him tripping over it if he had the energy to worry about anything at all. Pete remains at the microphone, sure that one couple will fall any moment now, and he’ll be able to announce the big winner. The recipient of the grand prize. 

If Ryan could worry about anything, he’d worry about the way his skin tingles wherever Brendon touches him. Which would be a problem, because Brendon’s everywhere at this point. He’s basically holding Ryan up, dancing with him like you’d dance with a rag doll. He’d worry about how the hair on the back of his neck stands up when Brendon puts his right hand there, using his left to pull Ryan close by the small of his back, pressing their bodies together simply because it’s the easiest way for him to hold Ryan up, and probably not for any other reason. 

“Ryan, c’mon Ryan, we’re so close,” Brendon says. He’s not excited anymore, hasn’t been for a couple of hours. He sounds a little irritated actually. Maybe a little desperate. Ryan notices the guy from the other remaining couple stumble over his shoelace, but he catches himself somehow and holds his partner up, dancing unreasonably slowly. 

“Your girlfriend is staring at me.”

“What?” Brendon asks, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What girlfriend?”

“Sarah,” Ryan mumbles. Brendon’s former partner, Sarah, has taken a seat on the bleachers next to Keltie. She smiles at Brendon when he looks up and waggles her eyebrows a little. Ryan doesn’t have the energy to figure out what that might mean. She leans over to say something to Keltie, who immediately frowns. 

“Sarah’s not my girlfriend, she’s my best friend,” Brendon says. “I’m gay, Ryan.”

“Huh?” Ryan splutters, lifting his head from Brendon’s shoulder with a sudden burst of energy. He immediately regrets it, a sharp pain shooting from his spine to the back of his head, throbbing into his temples and begging him to collapse, to rest. 

THUD!

Ryan and Brendon both turn their heads to see the other couple collapsed on the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan can see the medical staff racing towards them. He feels a little relieved, like maybe they’ll be close enough to catch him when he inevitably falls over a few seconds from now. Until he realizes--

“We have a winner!” Pete shouts excitedly from the podium. Ryan can barely hear him over the shouting and whooping of his friends at the bleachers. He hears Sarah scream with delight. Weirdly, he doesn’t recognize Keltie’s voice among the cheers. 

“Oh my god, we did it!” Brendon beams. He gives Ryan’s body a squeeze, hefting him up one more time. “Ryan! I could just--”

Before Ryan can realize what’s happening, Brendon’s lips are on his. His lips are soft and warm, like two pillows for Ryan’s tired lips to rest on. His hands are on Ryan’s back, squeezing slightly to keep him held up. Ryan finds himself responding, opening his mouth a little desperately. It feels sort of like he’s taking a deep, soothing breath he didn’t know he needed. His body is reacting to something he hadn’t even realized he’d wanted so badly. Before he can react any further--try to use the muscles in his arms to pull himself up and kiss back harder, Brendon pulls away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, looking like he’s done something wrong. 

“No,” Ryan replies. He hopes it sounds as steady as it does in his head. He leans his forehead against Brendon’s tiredly, closing his eyes. “I liked it.”

“Really?” Brendon whispers. Ryan can feel the breath on his lips and licks them involuntarily. When he opens his eyes, Brendon’s eyes flick back up from where he’d been staring at Ryan’s mouth. 

Before Ryan can respond, Pete is there, holding a trophy, and Patrick’s there, he’s holding a giant check for one thousand dollars. Spencer’s there, and Jon and Haley are there, Sarah’s there. They’re all congratulating him and Brendon, complimenting their stamina. Spencer leans in a little closer, transferring Ryan’s weight from Brendon to himself. He leans down a little and asks, “Dude, did that guy just kiss you?”

“I think that was a dream,” Ryan mumbles. “I need to go back to sleep.”

“Okay, buddy, alright,” Spencer, says. He enlists Jon’s help to carry Ryan to the car and drive him home. Ryan doesn’t remember saying goodbye to Brendon, accepting his trophy or his award money. He can’t really worry about it right now. 

As he drifts off to sleep in the back of Spencer’s car, he hears Spencer say to Haley, “How’s Keltie?”

“Not great,” Haley responds, quietly. “If that was Ryan’s dream, then it was Keltie’s worst nightmare.”

Ryan doesn’t have a chance to think about that before everything goes black. 

****

\-- 2 days 8 hours 29 minutes (post marathon) --

Ryan sleeps right through his classes on Monday. He wakes up on Tuesday around 3p.m. only because there’s a knock on his bedroom door. 

“Who is it?” he yawns, wiping the drool from his mouth with one sleeve. He looks at his watch and tries to figure out what day it is. 

“Uh, it’s Brendon,” a familiar voice says. “From the dance competition?”

Ryan freezes.

When he looks down, he realizes he’s only wearing boxers and an old long sleeved shirt he only wears to sleep. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and his hair is sticking up in several different places. He’s got bags under his eyes. Basically, he looks like a bridge troll. 

The bedroom door creaks open and Ryan cannot believe it wasn’t locked. Fucking Spencer. Brendon peaks his head around the wood. “Hey, Ryan? I hope it's okay I stopped by. Your roommate let me in.”

Fucking Spencer.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” Ryan mumbles, one arm crossed over his chest and the other desperately trying to smooth out his hair. He blushes when Brendon takes in his outfit, all his unwashed, unsophisticated glory. 

“Sorry,” Brendon says. When Ryan dares to meet his eyes, he notices Brendon is blushing too. 

“So, why are you here?” Ryan asks. He winces when he realizes how rude it sounds. 

Brendon doesn’t seem to notice. “I just wanted to make sure you got this, since you worked so hard and all.”

Brendon hands him a small check for five hundred dollars. He examines it for a few moments before looking back up at Brendon, who’s smiling at him shyly. 

“I hope you don’t mind I cashed the big flashy one, I just took your cut from my personal account,” Brendon says. 

“I can’t believe you deprived me of an opportunity to show up to the student credit union with an enormous publisher’s clearing house check.”

Brendon laughs at that, loosening up a bit. He clears his throat before continuing: “Maybe I can make it up to you? I’d like to, uh, that is, if you want to, maybe, would you let me take you out? Sometime?” 

Ryan’s blanching hard, now. Did he really just get asked out? In his boxers? After sleeping for roughly two days? Is he still dreaming?

Ryan walks across the room with purpose, stopping in front of Brendon and tilting his head up. He reaches one hand up to cradle Brendon’s check, turning his head to face him. Before Brendon can say anything, Ryan kisses him. It’s smooth and slow, and Ryan moves his other hand to cup Brendon’s face, deepening it just a little. When they finally pull apart, Brendon looks confused. 

“What was that for?” he asks, but Ryan can see the tug of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

“Had to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming,” Ryan replies. He pecks Brendon’s lips again, feels his smile from underneath his lips. “Do you like coffee? I could probably use some coffee.”

“Love it,” Brendon says, eyes still focused on Ryan’s lips. 

“Can I change first?” Ryan asks. 

The question was rhetorical, but Ryan laughs when Brendon sticks out his bottom lip in protest. Ryan shoves him out the door and pecks his cheek. “Meet you in the living room in five minutes.”

Brendon grins.

****

\-- EPILOGUE --

“Thanks for meeting me here, I know you’ve been busy.”

Keltie sits down across from Ryan at the table, smiling feebly and not meeting his eyes. She looks a little tired, still using the crutches her doctor gave her to get around easier on her sprained ankle. It’s only been a week since the competition, but Ryan can tell she’s already improving. 

“How’s physical therapy?” he asks.

“It’s alright,” Keltie replies. She sounds a little lost, like she’s thinking about something else. Ryan brightens, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. 

“Here, I wanted to give you this.”

Keltie takes the check Ryan slides across the table; the one Brendon gave him for his half of the grand prize money. Keltie looks up at him without saying a word. 

“Now you can visit your dad,” Ryan supplies. 

“Yeah, wow, thanks,” Keltie says, and Ryan can finally see the hint of a smile there. 

“Are you mad at me?” Ryan asks suddenly. 

“What? No,” Keltie replies, a little defensively and a little sadly. 

“You haven’t spoken to me since the marathon.”

Keltie sighs, and she sounds tired. “Like you said, I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been busy before,” Ryan prods. 

“I’m not mad at you, Ryan.” Now she sounds a little irritated.

“Is this about Brendon?”

“For God’s sake!” Keltie shouts. Ryan’s a little taken aback. Keltie has never used that tone with him before. In fact, he’s only ever heard her use that tone with the freshman dance students she mentors. She uses it when they’re not taking her seriously. It hurts his feelings. “No, Ryan, it’s not about Brendon. Well, I guess it has a little bit to do with him. It’s mostly about you, though.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks genuinely. 

“No,” Keltie says. She sounds dejected now. All the venom from before has faded to sadness again. “It’s just that, I don’t know. I’ve been throwing myself at you for two years now. It’s so obvious to everyone, I figured it must have been obvious to you too, but it wasn’t. Then, I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe this would be my chance to finally convince you we should give us a try. But you ignored me all night. I guess I was just a little jealous. There I was, throwing myself at you, and that Brendon guy only had to exist. You couldn’t stop giving him your attention, even when you tried. Even when I tried.”

Ryan doesn’t know what to say. 

“It’s not really your fault, I guess,” Keltie continues. “I shouldn’t have let it go on for this long. I should have just told you how I felt and took my rejection early, before things got so complicated.”

Ryan wants to reach across the table and comfort her, stand up and hug her, but he feels like maybe that would hurt more than help her at this moment. He hadn’t realized any of this until now. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been hurting her by being so oblivious. He wracks his brain for the right words. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be,” he says. 

“Me too,” she replies softly. 

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Kelts.”

“You won’t, Ryan,” she says. She looks up at him then. Her eyes are a little watery, and Ryan really hopes she doesn’t cry. He doesn’t want anyone to cry over him. His throat feels tight. “I just need some time to recover.”

“I guess I can give you that,” he says. He doesn’t want to be away from Keltie. She’s one of his closest friends. But if time and space is what she needs to be his friend again, he can certainly provide her that. 

“I appreciate that,” she says, reaching across the table and covering his hands with hers, briefly. She pulls her hand away and tucks the check into her bag. “I appreciate this too,” she says. “I can’t wait to go see my dad. I think I’ll book my flight for next week so I can make it back in time for his birthday.”

“That sounds great,” Ryan says, smiling encouragingly. “Maybe…maybe we can hang out, when you get back? If you’re up to it.”

Keltie stands up, slinging her bag over one shoulder and smiling sadly, but in a way that makes Ryan a little hopeful, too. “Yeah, maybe we can.”

**Author's Note:**

> Occasionally, I still write. I only write 2006-2009 or alternate universe ryden. If you have an idea you wish someone would write, drop me a message and maybe you'll get a surprise!


End file.
